


Let It Sink In

by JupiterJoon



Series: Total Trash But Why Not [1]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Bad Puns, Crack, F/M, Not Beta Read, Puns & Word Play, Sex, Trashy Porno Tropes, Unrealistic Sex, basically i was bored at 2 am, cringey sex terms from the olden days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22486504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JupiterJoon/pseuds/JupiterJoon
Summary: Namjoon is your best friend's uncle. He's also a handyman. And boy, is he great with his hands, man.Terribly bad tropey porno
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM/Reader
Series: Total Trash But Why Not [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617883
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Let It Sink In

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a trashy POS I wrote up on my phone. I'm publishing it as a thank you for 300 tumblr followers and thought I'd post it here.

He’s not really your best friend’s dad. He’s her uncle, her incredibly hot, kind of ditzy, dimpled and ripped uncle. 

But Namjoon’s around so much he felt like a father figure.

Or, better yet, a daddy figure.

He worked as a handyman. And by the look of them, soft, tan skin over busy fingers, you bet he’s great with them.

You’d sit in her kitchen, watching Namjoon make coffee on Saturday mornings in nothing but gray sweatpants. You’d watch the muscles of his shoulders roll as he reached into the cabinet, the way his arm would flex just from the gentle weight of the carafe as he asked you in that deep, groggy voice, “want some?”

Yes, you want some and much more.

When you asked your friend what it was like living with such a hot guy, eyes still on Namjoon, she just scrunched her nose and giggled.

“Namjoon’s like family. He’s always been there for me.”

He’d nodded, “any friend of hers is family, too.”

You frowned at that. Because you don’t want Namjoon to be there for you.

You want him to be  _ in  _ you.

You’d tried to drop hints. Making sure you came over later at night when you knew he’d be home. Planned your outfits to emphasize all your best features. If your friend had caught on, she wasn’t saying anything.

And you took that as her permission.

Not that you needed it.

You’d take what you wanted regardless.

When you come over one afternoon, you see him standing in the kitchen. His dark brows furrow as he stares at the floor. He runs those long fingers through his tawny hair. Your stomach flips at the way his biceps pull in the white t-shirt, which lifts a bit to reveal a line of tanned skin above the band of his briefs.

“Uh, oh” you tease, leaning against the counter. “I thought you were banned from the kitchen.”

“Haha, very funny.” He doesn’t find your joke funny, eyes narrowing in a warning. But that dangerous look in his eye, if only teasing, eggs you on. Still, you bite your lip to keep from doing something you shouldn’t.

Not yet. You’d been sending signals. At this point, desperate and needy with the way you arch your back as you slide over to see what he’s staring at, stretching your body over the countertop.

But he hadn’t sent any back. Just that same dimpled smile. The breathy laugh and flash of teeth anytime your compliments were a bit too bold.

Distracting yourself, you follow his gaze. The toolbox is on the floor.

“Something wrong?” You’re genuinely interested. Your best friend told you to come over and she’d be home soon, off to fetch something for Namjoon. Maybe she was at the appliance store.

Which had to at least be 45 minutes away.

And you got the call 15 minutes ago.

“The goddamn sink is broken,” he grumbles. “I fixed it two weeks ago but now looks like we need what your little best friend referred to as a ‘real’ plumber.” Namjoon sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. 

The butterflies start to alight in your stomach. You two would be alone for a while.

Thank god you wore a vneck. Drawing your elbows in, you pout in solidarity. You can tell Namjoon’s noticed, too. His eyes dart over before he takes a step closer to the sink and away from you.

“That’s rude of her when you’re trying to be so helpful,” you offer. When Namjoon doesn’t respond, you tilt your head side to side. His eyes snap back to your face. You can’t help your sly smile at catching him checking out the goods.

When he says nothing, you try again. “Plus, you’re a handyman. You know what you’re doing. I’d let you handle my… sink.”

“Exactly!” he exasperates, hands dragging down his face to release the tension. Your head falls to the counter. He clearly missed your poorly-played innuendo.

You join his side of the island, but he drops to his knees and starts turning onto his back. You opt to jump on the counter instead. Watch the view. 

And what a fuckin view. His knees peek out through the rips in his jeans, legs relaxed and spread a bit. You follow the line of his legs up to his waist, clenched tight to support him. As he shimmies back a bit farther, his pecs strain against the white fabric, and you can just make out the perk of his nipples as he settles his shoulders under the sink.

“Do you...” you trail off. Namjoon ducks his head to see what you want. Fuck, he even looks amazing with a double chin. You raise your head, back straighter, and cross your legs. You relish the way your skirt slips a little higher at the movement. “Do you need any help?”

“Oh, uh,” Namjoon clears his throat from where he grips the wrench and the pipe. God, even the undersides of his arms flex. You want those arms flexing as they hold you down and fuck you into the counter you sit on.

You lean over the edge of the counter as you whisper, “I can be very helpful.”

Something squeaks under the sink. Namjoon splutters as water sprays over his face and his chest. His arm had jerked and ripped the pipe from its makeshift seam. He struggles to wrap his hands around the spurting leak, swearing under his breath.

You giggle to yourself, hopping off the sink. You stand between his spread knees and crouch down.

“Let me help, you got all,” you start, but your words catch in your throat. Soaked through, Namjoon’s chest rises and falls, dark nipples perked from the cold on his firm, strong chest.

When you glance over at him, you see a glimpse of it. In the shadow of the sink, his eyes are dark, hooded, lips parted as he watches you watch him.

You realize crouched down like this, he has a clear view between your shins of your pink lace underwear.

“Grab this pipe,” Namjoon husks out.

Your heart drops. You almost topple over from where you rest on your heels.

But then Namjoon points to where his hand is wrapped tightly. “Right here.”

You hear the sound of his dry throat sticking as he reaches out to take your hand. It’s warm and wet, as he guides it to his other hand. You drop to your knees to fit under the sink, body hovering over his damp chest. He places your hand over his, squeezing.

“This tight,” he says, moving to let go. As his grip loosens, you want to follow his hand, you realize you’re letting go. Namjoon snaps his hand back, eyes darting to yours with a flicker of annoyance.

“Grip it hard,” he orders, voice tickling your ear. 

You’re caught off guard so close. So, so close. You’re both crammed under the sink, his hand practically engulfing yours around the pipe, his nose inches from yours.

“How hard?” you whisper. Namjoon’s eyes are blown, his jaw-dropping. You look at his plush lips, a little uneven, a little dry, begging to be kissed.

“So hard,” Namjoon rasps. As soon as his hand leaves yours, it’s tangled in your hair, your lips pressing hard against his. Your tongues are immediately fighting for dominance under the sink, showered in the water spewing from the pipe. 

You lose your balance, water spraying over your face and dripping down your hair onto his face. You place a hand on his chest, the wet fabric of Namjoon’s shirt hiding only the feel of skin under your touch.

It’s dirty, heads knocking under the sink, water soaking you both. Your knees slip as the ground grows wet while he suckles on your bottom lip. Namjoon ducks, guiding you by the fist in your hair, as he moves to sit in front of the soaked sink. You scramble, swinging a leg sloppily over his lap.

“Oh my god,” you groan. You roll your hips down. “Looks like you have a pipe that needs tweaking.”

Namjoon lathes his tongue over your neck, sucking deep purple hickies there. “Fuck yeah. And I’m gonna snake your drain, baby.”

You whimper, hips rocking over his cock for any kind of friction. You’re like plumber’s putty in his hands. But when he pulls back, he looks just as wrecked. Dark eyes under hooded lids peer up at you perched in his lap. You trace your fingers over his kiss swollen lips.

Namjoon sneaks a hand under your skirt, growling when he feels your slick. He starts to rock his palm against your sopping folds. “I’m gonna ream you out so good. Been trying to keep my eyes off you for weeks.”

“I didn’t want you to,” you whine as he slips two fingers inside You can feel his knuckles slip in and out, the soft pads of his fingers immediately finding your most sensitive spot. “I just want you to plug me full of your caulk.”

You’re both soaking wet, you clearly moreso than him. But Namjoon manages to shove your shirt and bra up to your chin, suckling on your perked nipples. Your fingers lace through his hair while the other digs between you two, searching for the zipper that will unleash his throbbing love shaft.

When it springs free, you drool at the sight of his red, angry head. A bead of precum drips down the side. You swipe your thumb over the head, bringing it to your mouth and humming in pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Namjoon says while he marvels at you, an image of pure sex grinding onto his thigh.

“Come on, daddy,” you whine, the word dripping off your tongue like sin. “Line up that gas cock to my service entrance.”

“Of course, gotta make sure I fill every order,” Namjoon teases, taking his hard aching cock in his hand and fisting over it. You whine, desperate for his monster cock to split you open. 

“Yes, daddy!” You cry as you lower onto his massive dong. “Fuck, that’s the greatest dick ever.”

“All for you,” Namjoon moans, head falling back onto the sink. The water sprays behind him like a waterfall much like the one between your thighs. The slick is already dripping down them as you pump yourself full of his cock.

“Tell me how bad you want this pipe,” Namjoon growls while digging his fingers into your luscious tits.

“I want you to spring a leak in me, daddy,” you sob, the pain of his throbbing member mixed with the pleasure of each drag along your walls.

“Shit baby,” Namjoon groans, cumming hard at the exact same time you do. You both stutter out praises and cries as you cum in perfect unison, him sucking on your neck while you're flooded with a sensation unmatched by any other fuck you’ve ever had.

You brace for a grip on reality, hands spanning over rock hard delicious namtiddies. He rocks into you while you ride out the last of your orgasm, telling you how absolutely amazing you are.

Once things have calmed down, Namjoon gives your ass a light tap. “Better get things fixed before your best friend comes home.”

You giggle, standing and straightening your wet clothes. “How am I going to explain why I’m so wet?”

Namjoon smirks, a devilish glint in his eyes. “We all know how wet you are for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> no apologies, I warned you this was a POS


End file.
